Between Brothers
by Serafina Sky
Summary: <html><head></head>Belly needs to decide between two brothers. Two years have passed, Steven is getting married and Belly is on her way to Cousins to finally face what she's been running from.</html>
1. How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?

**Author's Notes:** _Just to give you a timeline, this story picks up from where "It's Not Summer Without You," ended, except Conrad didn't get a ride from his friend like t__he book. Conrad and Jere drove__ Belly__ back home __and she's been running from them ever since._

_Please read, enjoy and review!_

**Chapter 1: How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?**

The silence was absolutely deafening on our ride home from the motel. Conrad was gripping the wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white. Jere's posture was uncharacteristically stiff and I was half holding my breath the whole way home. I waited for someone to say something – do something, but stolen glances in the rear-view mirror were all I got from the Fisher boys.

In retrospect, those looks could have told me all I needed to know about the emotional hell that was waiting for me two years later. Conrad's steel blue eyes had met mine through the mirror and spoke of possession. Jeremiah's look screamed of fierce determination. Growing up, Conrad and Jere had rarely fought over anything – Conrad was often mature enough to share his things freely and Jere never begrudged him for the gifts their father favoured him.

Except me. I was the exception. Because really, you couldn't share me between two brothers that each wanted to possess my heart – breaking my heart in two just wasn't going to work. I should know, because my heart on that drive home was broken in two and I felt completely incapable of feeling anything but sorrow, grief – utter despair.

It would take two years after the night at the motel for me to mend my poor, sixteen year old heart. And now, I was unwillingly returning to the place I both loved and feared – Cousins. Steven and his long-time girlfriend Claire Cho were engaged and his best men, Jere and Conrad, were throwing him an engagement party at the summer beach house. I attempted numerous, feeble excuses to get out of it but after Claire Cho had asked me to be one of her bridesmaids, I knew I had to go. You really couldn't blame me for trying to escape. Waiting for me were the two boys responsible for my bouts of depression and love affair with the musical stylings of John Mayer. Slow Dancing in a Mother-Fucking Burning Room was my anthem for the first half of senior year.

"Shit Belly, could you try to look any more petrified? This is Cousins, this is Jere and Conrad. I know you had that short thing with Conrad but wasn't that just a schoolgirl crush? You look likeyou're on your way to the electric chair."

I gave him a scowl.

"Or no – don't tell me, you're worried about the heels you'll have to wear as Claire's bridesmaid. Don't worry, I gave her the memo that you are a catastrophe in those shoes and she's ordering you flats."

I looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. I knew he was trying but he really had no idea.

Conrad had devastated me with his rejection and I had run away and abandoned Jeremiah. I had decided I would choose neither brother. It was a self-preservation thing, running away from them. And now I could feel my heart painstakingly unravel again as I was greeted by the sight of Conrad and a beautiful Spanish girl, making out in his car. Conrad must have heard the car rolling onto the gravel driveway because he sat up abruptly and scrambled out of the car to greet us. At the same time, Jeremiah came bursting out of the house.

"Hello Team Fishergroomsmen! I would like to introduce my hot as hell fiancée, Claire, and my awkward, ok-looking bridesmaid, Belly, who will be joining our wedding party team," Steven announced and Claire smacked him on the head before smiling beatifically to Jeremiah and Conrad.

I could feel Conrad's eyes burning two holes into the back of my head. I was a different Belly though, and it was then I decided I wasn't going to take any of his shit. I gave him a stiff nod and hello before turning to get a bear hug from Jeremiah. If Jeremiah was willing to greet me with open arms, I would take the olive branch willingly.

"I've missed you, Belly," he whispered as he took in the scent of my hair.

"I've missed you too, Jere." The fact that he could forgive me so easily for abandoning him made my eyes prick with tears.

"Don't be a stranger, ever again. Promise," he demanded earnestly.

"Oh Jere," I sighed, and I just hugged him as hard as I could.

Looking up, I stared back at Conrad, who was giving me an intense look I couldn't decipher and hastily turned away when I caught him. Distantly, I could hear him introduce the Spanish girl as Maria, his girlfriend. That was when I told my heart to get a grip on itself. I was over Conrad Fisher. He and his new girlfriend could have a fucking make out fiesta for all I cared. I was over Conrad Fisher. I was over Conrad Fisher. I was over Conrad Fisher. Really, I was over Conrad Fisher.

Tune in for the next chapter! :D


	2. You Can Do It Put Your Back Into It

_**Author's Notes:** I do not own any of the characters or storylines from Jenny Han's Summer books, but I do own the original parts of this story! _

_Enjoy!_

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><p>The music was booming in the club and laughter was all around me. We were at Blue Lagoon, one of two dance clubs in Cousins and the location of choice for our first night out. I was wearing a cardinal red, knit strapless dress courtesy of my best friend Taylor Jewel. As befitting of her style, it was very, very short. I had initially planned to wear jeans and a white tank top, but I had quickly changed my mind earlier that evening.<p>

"Oh Isabel, is that what you're wearing out tonight?" Maria had asked in a way Taylor would have called the pinch-hitter voice. The pinch-hitter voice is undetectable to the common ear, but to the girl for whom the pinch is directed, the condescension is tangible. Bitch. My eyes narrowed slightly as my mouth blossomed into a smile.

"No, the locals always wear dresses out to the dance clubs in Cousins, I'll be changing very shortly," I said, gave her an elevator once-over and then willed my face into a pitying expression. Maria was wearing black suede shorts, a midnight blue, scoop-neck satin shirt and a structured bolero. This chick was trying way too hard.

"Don't worry, I've been growing up here with Conrad and Jeremiah, the locals expect it from me. You look beautiful, don't even worry about sticking out like an outsider." I knew I was being petty but I couldn't help it – when the drop-dead gorgeous, exotic looking girlfriend of your first love gives you a thinly veiled insult, you must retaliate three-fold. This is what Taylor Jewel had taught me. Not giving her a chance to respond, I turned and made my way up the stairs, yelling that I needed to change now.

And here I am, wearing one of Taylor's ridiculous, overtly sexual dresses for a reason I cannot articulate. Was I trying to upstage Maria? Was I trying to seduce Jeremiah? Was I trying to make Conrad feel bad for dumping me by attempting to look as hot as humanly possible? The reality was I had totally made up the dress-tradition, but luckily for me all of Cousins had graced me with a beautiful coincidence. Almost every girl was wearing a dress and Maria stuck out like a stuck-up, city-girl thumb. My mother had taught me it was wrong to revel in the misery of others, but I grinned despite myself.

"What are you smiling about? Girl, what is uuuuup with you and those Fisher boys anyways? God, it's like walking through Jello everytime the three of you are in a room at the same time – the tension is so fucking densssssssssse," Claire slurred, already on her fifth drink and her petite Asian frame swaying out of time to the beat.

The tension was not lost on me and was the main reason I had decided to get completely smashed tonight. I refused to be sober. If there was the possibility I would have to deal with the image of Conrad and Maria dancing intimately and making out at the bar, I needed to be boozed up. Drunk and unfettered, I told Claire everything.

I told her about the summer in Cousins where everything changed. I told her about Conrad and Belly: The Couple and how they had broken up on prom night. I told her about that fateful weekend Jere and I had rescued Conrad from failing freshman year and how Conrad was really trying to rescue the beach house. And then I told her about the worst night of my life – the motel room night, the awful drive home, and desperate calls I received from Jeremiah. I told her how I had ignored them and they had finally stopped. I told her how I had been depressed for months and how I had been dreading this trip for weeks. I told her how Jeremiah, in his forgiving way, had acted like nothing had changed between us.

"SSSSSShit Belly, they could make movie about your tumultuous love life. Torn between two brothers. Torn between one brooding, emotionally unavailable first love and his brother - your best friend: the fun-loving, devoted younger one. What the hell are you going to do?" Claire asked.

"Claire, if I knew the answer to that, the three of us could stand to be in the same room without it feeling like the house is on the verge of imploding." It was awful. Jeremiah making lighthearted jokes, myself making polite small talk to the both of them, and Conrad giving one-word replies – it was all so strained. Oh, not to mention Conrad's stares when he thought Jere and I weren't paying attention. I shivered.

"I know what you have to do! You have to face the problem head on!" and with a flourish, Claire shoved me backwards and ordered me to dance with Jeremiah. I fell backwards and braced myself for the impending pain of my head hitting the ground. Instead, long, strong arms enfolded me and lifted me upright.

"Whoa Belly, careful or that dress of yours might give a show that most guys pay big bucks to see at special establishments, if you get my drift," Jeremiah said, breath hot on my ear and his hands resting on my waist. I looked up and caught Conrad's eyes from the far corner of the club. He looked furious. My drunken self decided it was the perfect time to break out the dirty dancing. Thanks to the tutelage of Patrick Swayze via Jennifer Grey and multiple rewatchings at Taylor's house, I was kind of an expert on Dirty Dancing. I grabbed Jeremiah's hand and brought it up and around his neck. My arm rested there but Jere's slowly trailed back down my arm, down my side and squeezed my breast ever so slightly before stopping at my waist again. His grip pressed me back up against his body and I grinded to the beat of the music. I looked back and up at Jere and grinned. He grinned back and spun me around to face him, and we continued to grind sensually, facing each other this time. I could feel his hand on my ass and his arousal hard against his jeans. When did Jeremiah get so sexy?

The sound of a table crashing down to the floor caused both our heads to turn. There at our once up-right table, lay Maria and the table she must have knocked over in her drunken stupor. Conrad stood by looking disgusted before bending down to help her up.

"Fucking bitch, she's not even that pretty," I heard her yell as she looked over in my direction. Conrad sat her down at a nearby chair and walked over to us.

"Look Jere, I'm sorry but I really cannot handle taking her home right now, we're just going to fight and she's going to try to attack me. The bouncer gave me ten minutes. Not to mention I think Steven's spiked my drinks because I would have never let her get like that normally. Are you ok to drive, could you take Maria back to the beach house?"

Jere and Conrad looked at each other and it was then I knew that despite everything that had happened, they were still brothers. They covered for each other. They took each other's crazy girlfriends home when the other had unknowingly become drunk. That's just how the Fisher brothers worked. That's why I loved both of them so much.

Jeremiah nodded. He walked over to Maria and flung one of her arms over his shoulder and carried her out of the club.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything." His voice was like ice.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Conrad was infuriating.

"Don't act like you have any right to sound outraged, or mad, or like you give a flying fuck." I looked up at Conrad and his mouth twitched into a bemused smirk.

"Bel-" I raised my hand to his mouth and stopped him.

"Conrad Fisher, just shut the fuck up and dance with me."

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><p><em><strong>Author's Notes<strong>: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time: __**dazzlingcatcher, hannahlovx3, ImagineAsian2270 **__and __**ANONYMOUSs. **__Your comments about how the story is written and my character descriptions is really appreciated! _

_Read and review , please and thank you! :D_


	3. Move Bitch, Get Out The Way

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for your patience waiting for the next chapter – I hope to update a bit more regularly now that I've gained some momentum with the plot. Thanks to mdanser, RhizzIzzAwesome, Iwashereandyouweren't, WillowBee, raineorshine, and awesome 983 for your remarks – I appreciate your comments about my character development so far!

Please read, revel and review! Tis the three Rs that authors love!

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><p>"Sweetheart or v-neck, Belly?" a voice called at me through the change room doors.<p>

I assessed my reflection in the mirror. The v-neck aqua dress was beautiful, with its spaghetti straps, triangular bust pieces, wide panel waist and soft A-line skirt. Scratch that. It was damn sexy.

"Nix the v-neck!" I yelled out. I couldn't afford to look sexy. I willed my being to personify Mother Theresa. Or The Queen. Decidedly modest type of women that would never have done what I did last night.

I heard a sigh. "Bells, just get the fuck out here before I go Bridezilla on your ass. This hangover is killing me and I am not in the mood to play games."

Claire may be tiny, but she could pull out the bitch card at a moment's notice. I promptly opened the door. Slack jawed faces greeted me.

"You look hot!" Claire announced.

"You look damn hot!" Amanda quipped. Amanda was a tall, athletic redhead with a spirit that matched her hair colour. Amanda was to Claire as Taylor Jewel was to me – best friend and maid of honour material.

"You look like a slut. Those boobs are way too big for that type of dress," Maria said as she leaned her head on her hand and nursed a water bottle in the other. Hungover and tired, she gave me a look that said that she thought I was a slut too. I dropped my eyes.

Cool it Bells, she can't know. She left early and anyone else left at the bar were too wasted to remember anything. You barely remember anything. For all you know, tequila and your deranged mind convoluted a completely fictitious account of last night. For all you know, you behaved like a perfect Catholic. Catholic girl. Catholic school girl. Catholic school girls are sluts. I am a slut. My mind was running around in panicked circles.

Amanda's strong, no nonsense voice interrupted my thoughts, "You know what else looked like a slut? You. Last night. Coming onto your boyfriend's fucking brother."

I didn't have to look at Claire to know we both shared the same looks of disbelief.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Maria said with a low, dangerous voice but her eyes had widened slightly. My mind raced – Amanda had driven separately from all of us and had arrived to the beach house late last night.

"Back where I come from, straddling your boyfriend's brother in the driver's seat qualifies as cheating. Especially when you are also trying to force your tongue down his throat. And his hand down your shirt. Like I said – looked like a slut to me," Amanda shot back, looking disgusted at the memory.

If possible, our jaws dropped even closer to the floor and our eyebrows raised even closer to the ceiling. There was a long, deafening silence as Claire and I stared stupidly while Maria and Amanda engaged themselves in a glaring match. Claire was the first to collect herself.

"Sweetheart it is!" Claire exclaimed loudly and flagged down our elderly sales associate who had taken cover in the far corner of the bridal store. She looked like she was going to have a coronary. I imagined her to be what my mother would be like in 20 years – conservative and not prepared for the indelicacies of 20-something year olds.

After what seemed like the world record for fastest measurements taken, the four of us left the store with Maria still fuming. Jeremiah waved to us from his parked car down the road, having offered to pick us up earlier this morning. Desperately, I clung to the wild hope that we could maintain the silent tension until I could run for cover at the beach.

"Fucking flat-chested, ginger giraffe," Maria mumbled. Amanda had retreated back to talk with Claire and wouldn't have been able to hear her. But I did.

What happened next was completely uncharacteristic of me, but my heart was impassioned. For years I have loved the Fisher boys and I had developed a deeply protective instinct for them. Nevermind the fact that I had been the first thing to ever come between them – Maria was an outsider and I would be damned if I let her get away with (a) cheating on Conrad (b) coming onto Jeremiah and (c) talking smack about the girl who just defended my honour. Ergo, with my eyes narrowed and voice incredulous, I said slowly and purposefully, "You. BITCH."

I punched squarely at her pretty little face. And then, I am embarrassed to say, Maria and I engaged in a could only be classified as a chick fight in the middle of Cousins downtown square.

Midway through slapping her face side to side, it was Jeremiah who finally pulled me off of her. High on adrenaline, I thrashed in his grip but he held me in place.

"Here - take my car, bring Maria back to the house and send Conrad over here to pick us up. I think Bells needs some time to cool off." Jeremiah said in a strained voiced, throwing Claire the keys. I suppose she seemed the sanest of the three. Quickly, Claire ushered Amanda and Maria to the car and drove off.

Jeremiah sat me on a nearby bench and let me rest my head on his shoulder. We sat together in silence for a long time. We made a funny picture: Jeremiah with disheveled wavy locks and I with a scratch marks down my arms, face bright red and my hair in disarray. People gave us an array of curious glances, amused stares, and looks of horror. I looked up at Jeremiah. I had to ask.

"Jere?" Jeremiah looked down at me.

"Yeah?"

"What happened last night?" Jeremiah opened his mouth to speak but then closed it abruptly. We both looked up to see an infuriated Conrad.

"I'd like to know the same thing."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I know, I'm cruel. Muahahaha. I hope you enjoyed this chapter – there was less character development and more plot development, but definitely the next chapter is going to explore the emotions of our beloved love triangle. Stay tuned!


	4. It's Getting Hot In Here

_**Author's Note:**__ Please note that none of the "The Summer I Turned Pretty characters or pre-existing book plots are mine, though this is! _

_Hey everyone – just a caution, this chapter will really garner the story's M rating, so if you are not of age or uncomfortable with the content, please do not continue reading the story. To RhizzIzzAwesome and awesome983, thanks for your enthusiastic reviews and I especially hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though really that hope goes out to everyone!_

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><p><strong>JEREMIAH<strong>

There are very few things you can be sure of in life, but when it involves your brother and the girl you grew up with, sometimes you just know. When I had looked up and saw Conrad with that wild, intense look in his eyes, I knew something was wrong. When I turned to Belly and saw her wide-eyed, panicked look and something akin to fear – no – terror, I knew something was terribly wrong. As I followed their lines of sight and saw that they met, crackled and sizzled – I knew and I was sure.

In a moment's span, I leapt to my feet, right-hooked him in the jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground.

"SO HELP ME GOD, CONRAD - tell me you didn't sleep with her!" I tried to sound outraged but I couldn't help the tremor in my voice.

Conrad answered with a left hook to my eye and I staggered back into the bench, seeing stars. Dimly, I heard him yell.

"SO HELP ME GOD, JERE, tell me you didn't fuck my girlfriend!"

During this exchange, I could hear Belly's breathing hitch to near hyperventilation beside me.

"Funny, it's been difficult to keep track as of late. Tell me, big brother – is your girlfriend the one you're sleeping with, the one you're in love with, or the one who drives you into a jealous rage?" I asked derisively. A hurt look flashed across Conrad's face.

"Jere –" he started.

"And the trick answer, ladies and gentlemen… is none of the above. The lovely Isabel Conklin makes claims to all three criteria, and yet – CONRAD IS DATING MARIA. We also would have accepted: Conrad is the biggest douche of all time and should go drown himself in the beach. And Belly needs to stop being naive because REALITY CHECK, Bells – he breaks your heart every time." I heard a choked sob and turned to see Belly crying. Remorse washed over me.

It wasn't like me to say things like that, but Belly and Conrad hurt me on many levels. Belly was my childhood friend. Belly was my boyhood crush. Belly had broken my heart. Conrad had my father's love, athleticism, brains and The Girl in the palm of his hand before he crushed her like it was nothing. Repeatedly. And now, as Belly was on the brink of piecing herself together, Conrad decided he would break her again. And Belly let him. I couldn't stand it.

"Jere," Conrad started again, and I could hear the barely contained anger in his voice. "While I did get trashed last night and yes - there are some holes in my memory, I clearly remember passing out in my bed and waking up in it – alone." I stared and then let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh." It was all I could think to say.

A long, awkward silence filled the space between us.

"It was on the beach," said Belly in a quiet, dead voice.

"Sorry Bells?" I turned to face her.

She spoke softly and very slowly, "Conrad remembers passing out in his bed and waking up in his bed alone because he did." She turned to look Conrad dead in the eye, "The fallacy in your rationale, Conrad Fisher, is that we did it on the beach. Though I am glad," she bit back sarcastically, "to hear it was a hole in your memory. Because just the thought of it _kills me_," and here, her voice caught in a sob, "inside with a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

And then, with uncanny calmness and poise, she got up and snatched the keys from Conrad's limp hand.

"Conrad, you will find another mode of transportation because I am taking your car. We will no longer continue with the pretense that things are ok between us because they are NOT ok. You broke my heart, you took it back, you broke it again, and now I am in a position where I hate myself and what I've done with you." Conrad nodded mutely. "Jere, you will accompany me to ensure I do not run over Conrad doppelgangers. However, this does NOT mean you are forgiven for acting like a complete tool just now." Like my brother, all I could muster was a meek nod. I silently followed her to the car.

As we sped along the country road, I stole a peek at Belly. Beneath the stoic exterior that was so unlike her, I could tell she was on the verge of a breakdown. I spied a trail mark to the beach up ahead and decided to risk Belly's fury.

"Bells, pull over."

"Fuck off, Fisher."

"Geez, hostility much? Pull over because I really doubt you can see through those tears you're fighting back."

I held my breath and exhaled when I saw her signal the right blinker and park the car.

As we walked through the grasses, somehow our hands had found one another. I couldn't tell you if her hand had grabbed mine or if my hand had grabbed hers. All I knew was that it felt good. When warm sand greeted our feet, Belly collapsed and I reached down to lay alongside her, our hands still touching. I waited as Belly sobbed beside me, listening as her heaving sobs receded to sniffling, then silent tears, then nothing.

Belly turned her face to gaze at mine and as I stared at her pretty face, tear-stained cheeks and glistening eyes, I couldn't help it. I grasped her chin softly and gently kissed her. Once. Twice. The third time the anger I felt towards her and Conrad rushed over me and I kissed her more forcefully, my hand reaching around the back of her head and pulling her lips to press even harder to mine. Her sweet mouth gaped open to moan and I took the opportunity to shove my tongue past her lips. Fuck, Bells was hot.

I could feel blood rush through me and as my need for her escalated, my hands had unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it away. I broke away from our kiss to take her in – the last time I had seen Belly in a bikini was almost three years ago. She had been pretty before, but now she was a fucking sex goddess. My lips went back to hers with fervor and then trailed down her neck. I shift my body above hers and slid my hands up her stomach and around to the sides of her chest. I squeezed her tits through her flimsy bikini and then shoved one of the panels aside to roll her nipple between my fingers. Belly gasped and I felt her body arch into mine. Her moans fuelled me and I continued to trail my lips down her neck and then around her breast.

"Oh – OH CONRAD!" she moaned. My body stilled and instantly I rolled off her and stubbornly stared at the sky. I could her Belly breathing heavily beside me. Minutes passed between us again. Belly and I had always been able to enjoy each other's company in silence and likewise, fight in silence. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Belly spoke out first.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes, Belly."

"And you love me."

"Yes."

"But it's not the same." The pain of her truth lanced through my heart.

"No, it isn't."

"What you said about me was true, you know. What's that saying – stab me once, shame on you – stab me twice, shame on me?" Her voice caught at the end and then she laughed bitterly. "The problem is, Jere – I can't help it. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in this time loop. And no matter how differently I approach the situation, I always end up broken. "

"I know."

"I love him."

"I know that too."

**BELLY**

"I still can't believe you slept with him. I mean, even you should know better than that."

"Thanks Jere, as if I'm not telling myself that already."

"Just thought you might need to hear it again!" Jere tried to say cheerily. He paused and I could see he was thinking deeply. There was an inner struggle going on and I watched his face patiently. Then, Jere met me my face with bright eyes and a determined set to his jaw. His mouth grew into a grin and he said, "I can't believe you slept with him. You really should know better than that." I rolled my eyes. "You and I both know Conrad's never been about what's easy. You need to show him you're not the clingy, melodramatic seventeen year old that he walked away from three years ago."

"And how exactly do you propose I do that, Jeremiah Fisher?"

Putting on a sleazy French accent, he replied – "Why Izzz-a-bellll, you must play ze game of hard to get."

I burst out laughing – we both did. When I had calmed down, I said in a sober, regretful voice, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Jere. When Susannah died. I should have been there."

"I know, Bells," my golden boy said. Jeremiah had always been the golden boy and even now, after all we'd been through, he did not disappoint. I didn't deserve him.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>__Hey I know I cranked up the steaminess in the chapter and definitely the story has gained momentum. Let me know if you like how the story is progressing and what you'd like to see happen next. As always, please review with your feedback, tis the food for authors. :D –Serafina Sky_


	5. Breakeven

**JEREMIAH**

Even when we were little, I always had a sense Belly liked Conrad better than me. Or rather – while Belly had always liked me better, she loved Conrad most. On Conrad's thirteenth birthday, I remember walking down to the basement and stopping partway down at the sound of voices.

Belly in her cute pink party dress was nervously fidgeting and looking everywhere else but Conrad. For a short moment, my mind straddled the line between boyhood and adolescence as I admired the way the floaty, ballerina-pink, tulle skirt complemented her fair skin and faint blush on her cheeks. With a sinking feeling, I realized she was blushing because of Conrad.

"Look Belly, you were the one that asked me down here, what do you want?" Conrad asked impatiently.

I watched as something seemed to click into place with Belly – her eyes focused to meet Conrad and her fidgeting hands stilled. It was then I noticed she was holding a small box.

"H-here!" She said and stuck her hands out.

Conrad's eyes turned somber and he began to carefully open his gift. I took a sharp intake of breath and I could faintly hear Conrad do the same as he realized what Belly had given him. Inside the box lay what was a chipped sea shell, burnished a gleaming pearly pink on the inside. Her most prized find that summer, and Belly was giving it to Conrad.

"Belly, I can't accept this," Conrad said in a resolute voice and shoved the box back towards her.

"Yes you can," Belly started, but she was interrupted by a heartbreakingly quiet crash. In the flurry of hands exchanging the gift, the shell had tumbled out and lay in broken pieces on the floor.

"O-Oh!" she cried out in a soft, choked sob.

"Belly I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to break!"

"It's ok Conrad," she said in a small voice. It wasn't ok though. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation because I took that moment to quietly sneak back up the stairs and lounge in the living room. Seconds later, I saw Belly close the basement door behind her and start to walk dejectedly down the hallway.

"Oy Jelly Belly! Want to watch a movie with me?" I asked innocently.

"No Jere, thanks but I don't really feel that well." Again, as I looked up at her tear-stained lashes and doe eyes, I felt my little boy heart catch at the revelation that Belly was actually very pretty. Moreover, her prettiness was amplified by the fact that she was completely oblivious of her effect on me (1).

"Come on, I was going to put on _Sleepless in Seattle."_ I knew for a fact it was one of Belly's favourite movies.

Belly's eyes narrowed skeptically. "You – Jeremiah Fisher – were going to watch _Sleepless in Seattle_ of your own free will and volition?"

"Yes," I answered instantly and unblinkingly.

"You – Jeremiah Fisher – were going to subject yourself to two hours of Meg Ryan's indecisiveness, nose scrunching and what you've called her 'stupid girl love logic,' with no ulterior motive or plan?"

"Scout's Honour," I announced and solemnly held up a hand. Behind my back though, the fingers on my other were decidedly crossed.

Belly stared at me incredulously. "Ok," she agreed cautiously and took a seat next to me on the couch. Turning to me, a slow smile formed on her once devastated face. "Thanks, Jere. You're the best."

"I know."

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><p>Belly's voice pulled me out of my reverie. "Did you really do it, by the way?"<p>

"Belly, I am an extremely exciting kind of guy that lives an exciting kind of life; you will have to be more specific."

"Argh! Don't make me say it," she exclaimed and made some garbled noises before finally mumbling, "Did you sleep with Maria?"

"Belly, what kind of guy do you think I am?" I asked, feigning outrage.

"Well, it's just Amanda said she saw you guys together last night and then Conrad, with the punching and the yelling and the 'OMG you fucked my girlfriend' fiasco kind of makes me think you're a backstabbing brother kind of guy," she said half jokingly, half seriously.

"This is coming from the harlot with whom Conrad cheated on his girlfriend – the same girlfriend you are accusing me of sleeping with? Sounds to me like you are tangled in this web of sordid affairs as much as I am."

"Touché, Fisher." I started to grin in my triumph, "and yet – while Conrad and I can blame beer and tequila, you on the other hand – you were sober enough to drive Maria home. Why did you do it?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

Conrad doesn't give a shit about Maria, he loves you. Yet somehow, he gets both of you. How he lives with himself – it astounds me, I thought. How I can stand to continue to pick up the pieces astounds me even more.

Instead I replied, "Come on Bells, anyone staying at the beach house could tell you that what transpired last night was inevitable. Blame it on the alcohol as much as you want, but you two were acting on feelings you've been suppressing all weekend," – or rather – years, I silently added.

"You still haven't answered my question, Jere," I heard her call out as I got up from our sandy bed by the beach and began walking back to the car.

I looked over my shoulder and flashed Belly a grin. "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>CONRAD<strong>

Steven had arrived to pick me up in good spirits. Claire and Amanda obviously didn't know what had happened between Belly and I because Steven had asked about my stranded status in a way that was so blissfully ignorant, I knew he couldn't know.

I closed my eyes and took a moment to steady my voice - "I slept with Belly last night," I said evenly. I opened my eyes to face a Steven whose face had gone hard and whose hands had fisted at his sides.

"Don't fuck with me, Conrad. That isn't funny."

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair as I searched for the right words to say. "Look Steven, I'm really sorry, but remember how you spiked my drinks last night? I got trashed, Belly was trashed, and we slept together. It would have never happened otherwise."

"You're either blaming this on me for spiking your drinks, blaming it on the alcohol or blaming it on my innocent little sister. In any case, you're doing what you've always done when it comes to Belly – you'll blame it on anything but yourself." I tried to interrupt him but Steven shoved me back with a pointed finger. "Do you think I'm blind, do you think I didn't see and feel what you did to Belly after you led her on for a year and then dumping her – on Prom Night? For fuck's sake man, for our history and for Susannah, I set it all aside and maintained our friendship, you're my goddamned best man, Conrad!"

"I know," I said hurriedly, but not quickly enough. Steven continued his verbal rampage.

"No Conrad, you don't know, that's the problem." He took a step forward and met me face to face. "You're going to make this up to Belly. For the sake of Claire, our parents and the wedding, I am going to be civil to you, but know this – until Belly is back to being my genuinely happy sister, you are no longer my brother. Make it right." He shook his head. "Fuck, this is like your thirteenth birthday all over again," he added absently, more to himself than to me.

"What are you talking about?" I prodded.

He waved me off dismissively, walking to his car, "Oh you know, the broken pink shell fiasco. She cried herself to sleep that night." I stared at his back, dumbfounded. Leaning against his half open car door, he called out, "Are you getting in or what? The list of people willing to pick you up and drive you is getting shorter by the minute. I think Claire and Amanda are taking Belly's side, Maria knows something is up, and God help you if Jere knows." He studied my face and then shook his head.

"Just get in."

* * *

><p>When we got back to the beach house, I made a beeline for my room, ignoring Maria's overeager greeting and the curious looks from Claire and Amanda. Locking the door behind me, I climbed onto my bed and reached behind my headboard, feeling for a hook and a thin, gold chain.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>BELLY<strong>

When Jere and I got back, the house was deserted. "Gone fishin'. And by fishin', we mean Captain John's Seafood Buffet. – Steven," said the note on the fridge. Jere decided to join them, but I was exhausted and declined. Retreating up the stairs to my bedroom, my body got to the landing and went still when I noticed my door had been left slightly ajar. I always closed my door.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I stared at the brown envelope that awaited me on my pillow. It was from Conrad – there was no denying the author of that small, precise scrawl that wrote, "I'm sorry. It wasn't ok when I broke this before, and it isn't ok now. We are going to talk about this." A shiver ran through me as I read his message, the first part was apologetic but the second part was classically Conrad – decisive and commanding. I was at a loss for how I could play hard to get when I've spent my whole life chasing this guy.

Shakingly, my hand took the envelope and tilted its contents into my upturned palm. My hands closed around a slender gold chain and a pink, heart shaped pendant. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a mosaic of broken shell pieces I had last seen scattered on a basement floor six years ago.

"Conrad, you are not playing fair," I said softly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Sorry for the delay, in response to your reviews, I did not forget about this, but as many authors will tell you, sometimes you have to wait for the story to decide what direction it will go. Thanks again to _RhizzIsAwesom_e and _awesome98_3 for being such supportive, consistent readers and reviewers. _Jaskrox_, thank you for the compliments! It is very gratifying to hear you appreciate the time I took to describe my clothes and attempt to write witty, lol. _Lisbeth, saudie and CrankyPants_, thanks for dropping some comments. This was the longest chapter yet and a couple nights in the making, so I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, if you haven't noticed yet, each of the chapters are actually song titles that happen to reflect the chapter themes.

Let me know what you liked, what you laughed at, how you felt! It's very inspiring as an author to hear how their readers react to their craft! Thanks so much! - Sere

(1) Reference to a line in Emily of New Moon, where L.M. Montgomery describes her protagonist Emily as a young girl with beautiful, enchanting eyes.


	6. The Day Doesn't Die

**Chapter 6: The Day Doesn't Die**

_**Author's Note: **__I was rereading the last chapter and I could feel my excitement grow as I wondered, "I wonder what's going to happen next!" Then, alas, I realized that it was all up to me, and so I decided to take pen to paper (or rather, keyboard to screen) and find out. This has been a work in progress for two weeks because I did the final scene first and had to build up to it properly. Ergo, two chapters for this update! Hurrah!_

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><p><strong>BELLY<strong>

It was nine o'clock in the morning and the sun was annoyingly bright as I dragged my feet towards Steven's silver Jetta with the girls and the boys piled into Jeremiah's truck. Maria was soundly sleeping in since she was not part of the wedding party. As I buckled myself into the backseat, Amanda called over her shoulder.

"Ok Isabel, enough with the tight lips. Spill."

"I don't know what you mean," I tried to say haughtily, but Amanda's brash friendliness was hard to resist. Amanda turned in her seat and she looked at me with bright green eyes that sparkled with mirth. Since Claire was driving she remained facing forward, but I could tell from her grip on the wheel that she was listening intently.

"Methinks the lady doth play stupid too much, but I'll give you a recap. Where we last left off, you called Maria a bitch, punched her in the face and then engaged in a cat fight in Cousins City Square. Jeremiah arrives, pries you two apart and we are ordered back to the beach house with Maria. We send Conrad to bring you two back. Shortly thereafter, we get a call that Steven needs to bring Conrad back. When the two arrive back to the beach house , Steven looks PISSED OFF and Conrad has a lovely black eye. He does not explain – instead, he locks himself in his room for the rest of the night. Fast forward to dinner and Jere arrives at the seafood buffet with a black eye. Again, Jere follows with Fisher tradition and stubbornly refuses to explain the origins of his new eye patch. And you – you are acting as calm as a kite but you can barely look Conrad in the eyes without blushing. Good God woman, where do you even start?"

Amanda looked at me expectantly. "Um… we went shopping, the boys told me I looked fat in a dress and I punched them both?" I offered weakly.

Skepticism was written clear across Amanda's face. "There are two things wrong with that, my dear. First, if your pretty little hands were responsible for those black eyes, they would be swollen and purple. Aside from a few scratches from your run-in with Maria, they are fine. Second, AS IF Jeremiah or Conrad would think you looked fat – I may be the new kid on the block, but it is evident that in this unrequited love triangle, you are the recipient of both brothers' affections."

I gaped at her and though I was aware my mouth hung open, I couldn't seem to will it shut. Amanda smiled brightly back at me. "You're going to tell us eventually sweetheart, so you might as well cough it up now."

I took a breath and opened my mouth to start when Claire announced loudly, "Ok we're here!" She turned around and threw me a dangerous smile, "Isabel, Amanda, these dancing lessons are expensive and important, so let me make this clear: for the next three hours, you will commit yourself physically, mentally and emotionally to learning this wedding routine. We are not going to drudge up our soap opera drama. We will not engage in brawls or catfights. We are not going to fuck this up. I have relayed a similar message to Steven and he has assured me the boys will cooperate. Understood?"

Amanda and I nodded mutely. Claire beamed, transforming from menacing to pleasant in an instant. "Great! Let's get going!" Just as I exhaled a sigh of relief, Claire added, "Oh, and let's pick up some ice cream on the way home, we can have our girl pow wow then."

_Damn._

As the boys parked and caught up with us, I pulled Jere back. "Did Steven give you the super long lecture about playing nice? Claire was kind of scary."

Jere shrugged and grinned. "Nah man. All he said was 'Don't fuck this up or Claire will kill me." I rolled my eyes. Guys were so simple. At that moment, Conrad stared back at us and the look on his face brought a shiver up my spine. I take it back, I thought – Conrad was anything but simple.

* * *

><p>When we entered the dance hall, a petite European woman greeted us, "Velcome to Markinov Dance Studio, I am Olga Markinov but you vill call me Olga." She took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled billowy smoke. She wore heavy eye liner and lipstick far too dark for nine in the morning, but she had strong dancer legs and a posture that spoke of years of dance training. She wore a black leotard with a scoop neck, sleeves that went down to her elbows and bottoms that went down to capri-length. At her waist sat a hot pink skirt. She looked about sixty, and I would have laughed at her comical appearance if she didn't remind me of a Russian mob boss wife.<p>

"Ah, we 'ave some tall and handsome men 'ere and some nice skinny girls, yes? Come to learn how to dance, no?" She peered at me through long, mascara laden lashes with an unapologetic elevator stare.

"Uh – yes. I mean no. I mean, whatever you want Ms. Markinov. I mean O-Olga," I stuttered, mentally kicking myself. Looking up, I saw that Conrad was watching me in amusement. I caught myself smiling back before pointedly looking away. I met Olga's eyes again, who smirked and had clearly witnessed the entire exchange.

"Actually Olga, I'm the bride, Claire, and this is my fiancé – Steven," Claire piped up, "Amanda is my maid of honour, Isabel is my bridesmaid, and Conrad and Jeremiah are the men of honour."

"Okay, ve vill start right away. You vill find my methods… unconventional, but they vork, so I will not put up with any… oh how you say…"

"Sheenanigans?" I offered.

"Jokes?" Jere asked.

"Games?" Steven quipped.

"Bullshit. I will not put up with any bullshit." I saw Claire give an approving, enthusiastic nod and threw a warning look to the Fisher boys and me for good measure. "You vill listen to me, or you can leave." We all nodded. "Excellent." She took another drag of her cigarette before throwing it into an ashtray.

"Now, bride and groom - you will stand here in the middle and face one another. Ginger and blonde one, to their left here. The two lovers, to their right."

Amanda and Jeremiah obediently went to their marks, Amanda muttering, "Amanda, my name is Amanda."

"Haha, lovers? We're not lovers. In fact, I'd like to change partners please," I sputtered quickly.

Olga's mouth widened into a cat-like, knowing grin, "My dear, deny all you want, but you do not spend thirty years in dancing and not learn a thing or two about the horizontal tango. And besides, dark and dark looks good, ginger and blonde looks good. Now if I remember correctly, I clearly stated a no bullshit policy, so please – the door is that way, if you will."

Claire gave me a look and made a hacking motion to her neck with her hand. "No – no, that's fine. I'll cooperate," I said, hands upraised in surrender.

Olga spent the first half hour going over the basic waltz fundamentals. His right hand to my left hand, clasped together. His left hand resting at my lower back, leading me while my right hand held him at his shoulder, along the shoulder blade of his back. And then, the box shuffle – _one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, _I repeated softly to myself. It was hard to concentrate being in such close proximity to Conrad. He smelled like Irish Springs soap and aftershave and it was almost unfair how well he filled out the black, v-neck cotton t-shirt he wore. His dress shoes were impeccably clean, shiny, and the only thing of Conrad's I could bear to look at.

The music abruptly stopped and I heard Olga yell, "No, no, no – we must stop! The ginger, you must stop leading – you are the woman, you must let the blonde man lead you. Blonde man, it iz time to grow some balls." Jeremiah gave a grumpy scowl.

I snickered but sobered quickly when Olga turned on me, "And you – Belle – I do not understand why you insist on staring at your partner's shoes when his face is far more attractive. Dark one, you must hold her with more feeling and not like a porcelain doll you will break. Like this," she demonstrated, shoving us closer and pressing his hand more firmly against my back. "Belle, for the remainder of the visit you will look into his eyes and maybe by the end of our session you will find success at more than the waltz, hmmm?" she quipped. For good measure, she took a roll of duct tape and taped his hand to my back, around both our waists and encircling us in a tape lasso that forced us to remain mere inches apart.

The remaining time passed in what felt like a moment and an eternity. Conrad and I didn't speak a word. We were lost in one another, hungrily taking in the details of the other's face, scent and body, as per Olga's orders. Claire would freak if I gave Olga backtalk – ergo the reason why I was steadily staring at Conrad, and he likewise. That's what I told myself, anyways.

Distantly, I heard Steven yell out, "Session's done. We're leaving you guys my car, Con. Keys are in your jacket pocket. Don't bother coming back until you've figured your shit out. Remember what we talked about, man!" God, now my brother was forcing Conrad to make nice with me. It was nice to know all my time with Conrad was forced – it did my ego well. Not.

"I vill be in my office," Olga added, and I heard her shoes click as they travelled down the hall and then a door shut soundly.

Conrad and I were alone in a ballroom, duct taped together.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>BWUAHAHA double chapter update = double the fun! Click next chapter to read on!


	7. Back To December

**Chapter 7:** **Back to December**

**Author's Note: **This is the second chapter of a double chapter update, so if you jumped to the last chapter without reading the titles, then go back to Chapter 6 to start where we last left off two weeks ago!**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>BELLY<strong>

Sweet Jesus, how the hell do I find myself in these situations? Suddenly, I felt Conrad tear the duct tape off of us and shift closer towards me, leaning his head forward.

His face searched mine and then he took a long breath. Finally, he said, "Come on Belly – forgive me?" His face was close to mine, his forehead to my forehead. His eyes were apologetic and looking down at me earnestly. My eyes nervously fluttered shut, and I could feel his warm breath edge closer to my lips. My mouth was puckering of its own accord, and oh – _Be still my racing heart! _I scolded. As I sensed his lips mere millimetres from my own, I plucked up the courage to peek at him and caught a ghost of a grin. Outrage filled me. Cocky bastard, I thought. I angrily shoved him backwards and he stumbled.

"No. Conrad – no. No, no, no, no, NO!" I yelled, panicked with my hands clutching at my ears in a vain attempt to block him out. Tears pricked my eyes and I couldn't stop the drops from falling. I dimly wondered how I could possibly have any tears left. At the memory of our prior fights, the dam burst and I heaved with the deep sobs that coursed through me.

Through my blurred vision, I could tell Conrad had gotten up to console me, a tall, dark and handsome figure with arms stretched open to engulf me.

"Don't touch me!" I said wildly, in hysterics.

Conrad ignored me and wrapped his arms around my flailing, fighting body. I felt his lips meet the top of my head to touch me with a tender kiss. I grew even more hysterical. First, my hands fisted to ineffectually beat at his chest, and then I vainly reached up to scratch at his face, but his hands clasped around my own and firmly set them at my sides. Frustrated, I grasped at the linen skirt of my white eyelet dress and I fought to recover my sanity.

I focused on my breathing and eventually my sobs receded. Through the silence, I heard myself ask what I had been wondering since Prom Night.

"Why did you dump me?" My voice was small and vulnerable and I held my breath in anticipation. Silence returned, filling the space between us. I looked up and my eyes traced the set of his jaw, the arch of his cheekbones and his dark, inscrutable eyes which stared back at me with an unfathomable emotion. I dropped my eyes, blinded by his beauty.

"Is – is it because I'm not pretty enough for you?"I sputtered, recalling Maria's sexy mop of black curls and hourglass figure. I thought of my own slim figure and brown, straight hair and reddened in embarrassment. Of course that was it.

Conrad brought his hands up to my face and forced me to face him head on.

"You listen to me, Isabel Conklin. You are the most beautiful girl in the world," he said slowly, purposefully, and with an intensity that gripped at my heart and forced it to skip a beat. I turned my face away from him, willing myself to be strong.

"You never even loved me."

Silence again, and then in an ironic twist of fate, At Last by Etta James burst through the speakers – courtesy of my friendly neighbourhood Russian mob boss wife - Olga Markinov.

_At last, my love has come along  
>My lonely days are over<br>And life is like a song_

Conrad's right hand reached for my left and as I watched our fingers clasp together, I felt my strength of will surrender. His left hand slid around my waist and settled at the small of my back. I raised my left hand up to grasp him at his back, and as Conrad's feet moved my own rushed to follow. _One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three_ echoed in my head. As I took a step forward I felt Conrad lead me into a spin. We both watched my skirt spin around me.

Snapping me back to his chest, he spun the both of us around and suddenly I was pressed up against a wall. And suddenly, he was kissing me. Hard. I felt his tongue outline the edges of my lips and I opened them slightly, surrendering my mouth to the delicious plundering of his tongue. I felt his hand grab the back of my neck and press me harder against him. We were both desperately clutching at one another as we kissed, and then suddenly – we broke apart, out of breath. Conrad leaned his head over my shoulder and whispered very softly to my ear, "I've never stopped loving you, Belly."

I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. "Stop playing games, Conrad. Look, I know Steven's tabled some sort of ultimatum with you and I can tell him we made up –"

He stepped back to look at me fiercely, "You're not listening Conklin. I'm in love with you. You're mine."

I pulled my hands out of his grasp and distanced myself a good ten feet. "No, you're not listening Conrad – don't you get it? The naïve, sixteen year old Belly grew up. I'm not taking your crap anymore and you can certainly believe I'm not going to fly back into your arms after one paltry professment of love. I want answers. That kiss just now was a mistake; no girl can be accountable for what happens when they're slow dancing to Etta James! So you can go fuck yourself, Conrad Fisher, because I promise you the other night was the first and last time you'll do it with me."

I stormed out of the room and flung the door behind me shut, though not before hearing Conrad yell after me, "I'm not giving up, Belly!"

* * *

><p>I leaned against the wall by the door, out of breath and breathing hard. I took a moment to consider what had just happened. I reached for my phone and quickly called Jere, "I don't think I can do this. It's too hard. I'm not even sure if he even deserves a second chance. Why can't he open up to me?" I pressed.<p>

"It was Susannah. It was my dad. It was me – it's never been you. It was always me."

I startled at the voice that was decidedly not Jere. Eyes wide, I ended the call with Jere who was mid-sentence and turned to face Conrad again.

"You were perfect. I was tortured. I didn't deserve you." He looked away. Conrad almost always looked you straight in the eye because he was almost always right.

"I'm a big girl Conrad, why couldn't you just have said that to my face?" I asked with a regretful, breathless voice.

"You were young Belly. You were young and as you have aptly pointed out, you were very naive. If I had told you that was the reason, could you have really moved on? I know you. God, the way you looked at me sometimes with those eyes of yours – I knew you would have waited forever if I gave you even the slightest bit of hope."

"But that wasn't for you to decide, that wasn't –"

"I didn't want that," he interjected. "I wasn't going to let that happen. Especially because Jeremiah was in love with you too – I had lost so much of my family already. Mom was dying, I lost all faith in my father - how could I afford to lose Jere too in my selfishness? How could I let you continue waiting for a version of me that might never come to be?" Conrad asked the last question with more vulnerability than I had ever heard from him.

When he finally looked up, I felt my heartbreak at the pain evident behind his eyes. A small voice inside of me asked how I could stand to be mad at him when he had acted so selflessly, so martyr-like – so quintessentially Conrad-like. Another voice – Taylor Jewel's voice – scathingly asked me if I wanted to be stuck in a loophole of Conrad-induced pain for the rest of my life. It warned me not to be a fool.

I took a deep breath.

"I understand," I said, and watched a slow smile start at the corners of his mouth.

"I forgive you," I added. His smile broadened.

"But I can't forget. We were in a relationship Conrad – you had no right to make that decision for me. You think you're the only one who's suffered these past two years. You're wrong," I said, jutting my chin up at him in a determined gesture. The insufferable bastard just grinned.

"Like I said, Conklin – I'm not giving up."

I gave an exasperated sigh and reached for my purse. Taking his jacket from where it hung over a chair, I handed it to him and wordlessly walked to the car.

"I get to drive in the same car with you this time?" He called out. I didn't look back. I just gave an impatient wave for him to follow me.

* * *

><p><strong>CONRAD<strong>

Following Belly to the car, I reached for the keys in my pockets. In one, I found the car keys Steven had left me. In the other was the necklace I had left on Belly's pillow the other night. Sliding into the driver's seat, I held out my hand high above the gear shift and opened my fist, letting the necklace hang between us and swing like a pendulum.

"I gave this to you to keep," I said accusingly.

"No actually – I gave it to you to keep first," she retorted back. God, she was infuriating when she was being stubborn. "And if I recall correctly, you rejected the gift. I don't see how this is any different." Hurt was laced in her voice.

"After you stormed out that day, I spent two hours down there – picking up the pieces. When we started dating, I had the pieces made into a necklace to give to you. That's when Mom's health took a turn for the worse and I took a turn for the worse. That's when I knew I couldn't have you anymore. So I let you go. I loved you - so I let you go."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>__Hey friends! Let me know what you think, especially specific lines you liked or parts that made you laugh out loud. __Constructive criticism is welcome too! Authors love that and it's what motivates them to write more, and to write better. _

_Thank you so much to __**RhizzIsAwesome, **__thanks for your comment – I loved Chapter 5 as well. I loved writing it – the dialogue seemed so effortless compared to these last two. I hope the Belly – Conrad talk was to your liking, but obviously there are more talks, confrontations and loose ends to come! Gratitude also goes out to everyone else who dropped comments, read the chapter or added the story to follow.  
><em>

_Until next time... Cheers! Serafina Sky._


	8. Make You Feel My Love

_**Chapter 8: Make You Feel My Love**_

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><p><em><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>__Thanks to everyone for their patience! I've had the plans for this waiting for a while, I just haven't had the opportunity until now! I appreciate everyone's reviews and comments:_

_**sunayna4sho**__  
><em>_**IzzaZebraSpot **__– I'm so glad you're reading this. :)  
><em>_**Domo lover**__ – I can't believe you read through it all in one day! What a compliment – I hope to get to the wedding soon too, it will be full of lots of drama, as per usual.  
><em>_**attica **__– I am a great admirer of your Summer I Turned Pretty series, thank you for your comments.  
><em>_**Curlylili26 **__– more is now. Muhaha.  
><em>_**dancingreadhead17**__  
><em>_**Rose Pesto**__  
><em>_**missunderst00d **__– thank you for the flattering compliment, I hope you survived long enough to read this, lol. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>BELLY<strong>

It was the night of the engagement dinner. Family and friends of both Steven and Claire circulated the summer beach house - laughing, eating and congratulating the happy couple. In the corner of my eye, I spied Taylor chatting up a hot guy and in another, Jeremiah playfully arguing with Amanda. Periodically, they would shoot me confused, bewildered looks. After all, I was sitting next to Maria, deep in discussion.

"Belly, can I talk to you?" Maria had asked, biting her bottom lip anxiously. I had nodded, unable to find a good excuse. She may be a bitch, but I had slept with her boyfriend – as the proverbial other woman, I deserved at least one good bashing.

So here I was, sitting on the steps of the deck alongside Maria, staring out to the ocean and listening to her talk.

"Did Conrad ever tell you how we met?"

No, that never came up between the sleeping together and subsequent fighting, I was tempted to say. Instead, I bit my tongue.

"Both he and I arrived late to the first Human Anatomy lab and by then, everyone else had paired up. Conrad became my lab partner by default, though we found we shared a lot in common. We both wanted to specialize in Oncology; we both lost our mother at a young age, and we were both far away from home," Maria began in that low, sultry voice I had come to resent.

Great, I thought. Not only is she beautiful, she's going to be a doctor too. How was it fair for one girl to be so frustratingly perfect? I mentally kicked myself for agreeing to sit through this.

"We shared our grief, we went to class together, and when everyone went home for the holidays, we shared the those together in the city. In a way, you could say that I became his girlfriend by default as well." Though her voice was still sultry and beautiful, there was a touch of bitterness for which I could not help but feel empathy. I swallowed and turned to look at her now, anticipation clear in my eyes.

"He never had to say it, you know. The way he kissed me, the way he held my hand – I always sensed he was holding back. At first, I thought it was because of his mom – that he was getting over his grief and he was afraid to be intimate. Eventually though, he seemed to be at peace talking about his mom, and then I knew there had to be someone else. Conrad struck me as the type to love only once in his life."

Maria lowered her eyes before she continued. "I learned to hate Her. I didn't know who She was – I could never bring myself to ask him, and realistically speaking, I doubt Conrad would have entertained my questions. And yet, I learned to hate Her because this girl was clearly the one who had claimed Conrad first and forever. I knew I would never have him wholly but I decided that if Conrad had traveled across the country to run away from it all, I might stand a chance." She paused again, reflective.

"For a while I thought I had him. And then, Conrad told me he had been asked to be best man to his best friend's wedding, and that he had to go back this summer. Stupidly, I insisted on coming along."

I shivered at the way Maria's voice laced with hurt as she said the latter sentence.

"And then you met me," I added.

She shot me a rueful smile. "Yes, and then I met you."

She opened her mouth to continue when she suddenly stilled and flushed. I followed her line of sight and felt my body go rigid as well, my stomach somersaulting on the inside. Conrad was walking the beach with my mother and faintly, you could hear him laugh one of his rare, Conrad laughs.

"We were making out in his car when I heard another car pull up, and then I was abruptly pushed aside. I saw something flash in his eyes and as I watched him scramble out of the car, I suspected. Watching him watch Jeremiah scoop you up into a hug, I knew. I knew you were Her, Isabel. I hated you before you had a chance to open your mouth. That night – oh God, that night," she laughed, and here she took a moment to look me dead in the eye.

**[[[[[ FLASHBACK ]]]]]]**

"Bottoms Up, BITCHES!" Claire announced, handing Steven, Conrad and I another shot of tequila. At this point, I couldn't even tell you how many shots we had had. Conrad was not a loud, boisterous drunk like Claire, but his inhibitions has definitely loosened – he gripped at my waist with a fierce possessiveness. With his other hand, he poured the contents of the shot glass down his throat and swallowed in one gulp. I did the same, and felt any reservations I may have had over Conrad's hands on my body slipping away.

Suddenly, I felt Claire pull me to the dance floor, taking Conrad along with me. My petite, Asian, future sister-in-law was bright red and could barely stand up straight. Claire was quickly losing her battle with gravity and with each successive sway, she teetered closer to the floor until finally, she fell to the ground.

"Shit," Steven exclaimed and his eyes focused with concern. "I think it's time to head home, eh Bells? Con?"

I dimly heard Conrad and I agree. Before I knew it, we were in a cab. Steven sat upfront. He and the cab driver were engaged in a heated argument over this year's Super Bowl favourites. Claire was passed out and leaning against the window. I - I was getting necked by Conrad Fisher in the backseat of a taxicab.

In the deep recesses of my mind, I knew it was wrong: what I was doing; what I was letting Conrad do and touch. And yet, the alcohol and sexual tension I had been repressing all day clouded my better judgment. All I could think about was how hot and fucking good it felt to have Conrad's lips trail down my neck and to feel his fingers trace circles on the inside of my thighs. Fuck me, Conrad knew how to touch a girl.

"We're here," Steven yelled back to us in a voice so upbeat I knew he was oblivious to our backseat canoodling. Steven opened the door adjacent to Claire and scooped her up.

"Hey Con, I gotta get Claire to bed. Make sure Bells gets to hers too, won't you?" Steven yelled, not bothering to wait for a response. He completely trusted Conrad.

You really couldn't blame him - Conrad was the sensible one. The controlled one. The dependable one. Steven was simply too drunk to notice that Conrad was too drunk to be himself. Conrad was holding me again, much too close and much too tight.

I made a step toward the house but Conrad held me in place. Bending down so close I could feel his warm breath at my ear, he told me, "No. We're going to the beach first. I'm not ready to go back yet Belly. We can't go back yet."

He was talking about more than just the beach house, I knew.

Then, I did what I had done all my life. I trusted Conrad and followed him.

**[[[[[ FLASHBACK ]]]]]]**

"I saw you that night. Jeremiah and I had passed out in the car and I woke up to the noise of the cab pulling up. I watched Conrad lead you to the beach and look back at you in a way he had never looked at me. And I was mad – I was mad and I was drunk, and Jeremiah was conveniently drunk alongside me. The poor guy, I literally threw myself at him. I wanted it to get back to Conrad. Worst of all, when Conrad did find out, he didn't even seem all that outraged. "

I took a deep breath, processing all that Maria had told me. "Why – why are you telling me this?" I asked, legitimately confused. I had expected a verbal ass-kicking.

Maria smiled a beautiful, sad smile. "You've only seen the crazy, jealous version of me, I'm really quite rational. I can see how much Conrad cares for you, but I can also see there is much misunderstanding. If this weekend's taught me anything, it's that I never really had him. There's a Spanish saying we have, _Sólo puedo pensar en ti – _it means, _I can only think of you._ You're all he ever thinks about, Isabel."

It dawned on me, "You really love him, don't you?" I prompted.

"Yes, I do. But he loves you, Isabel."

My eyes lit up despite myself, "You really think so?"

Maria's eyes laughed back, "Yes. Oh yes." She stopped as she considered something, and then added, "The other one is in love with you too, by the way." Her tone was very matter-of-fact.

I sighed. "I know."

Maria leaned back, resting her arms on the deck and surveyed me through her dark, chocolate brown eyes. She gave her head of curls a disapproving shake, "_Chica, _you need to get your shit together. Life is short - I'm sure Susannah must have taught you that." She stood up then, and reentered the beach house.

Immediately, Taylor Jewel was at my side.

"What the fuck just happened? Spill. Now!"

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><p><em><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>__It's so funny how each chapter is so different, huh? I hope you enjoyed getting to know Maria better - at the heart of every crazy bitch is a girl who is human and driven to irrational acts by deep emotion. Let me know how you liked this chapter please! I appreciate all your feedback. _

_Gracias! Serafina Sky_


	9. Just A Kiss

_**AUTHOR NOTES:**__ Howdy everyone! Thank you for all the kind words and reviews, __**haffy raza, IrisoftheNight, FanficRdr25, Shykira101, Foreverinspo and Guests 1 and 2!**_

_****_ .Onyx_**– **__Thank you for your positive comments, the story is always in the back of my mind as I try to think up new twists and turns to keep it interesting. :)_

_**waterbellied – **__Thank you for your comments and criticism! I am very conscious about overusing certain words in a chapter, but sometimes I forget what I've written in earlier chapters. I can't believe you read it all in one go, what a compliment!_

_***Just a word of warning – this chapter will merit its M rating. It's pretty obvious where it is so skip over the paragraphs if you don't like that kind of stuff.**_

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><p><strong>[CHAPTER 9: JUST A KISS]<br>**_Side note: Listening to Lady Antebellum, "Just A Kiss," as you read this chapter will make it a more emotional experience!_

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><p>.<p>

And so, I told her everything in the scrupulous way you reserved for your childhood best friend.

.

**[FLASHBACK]**

.

I giggled as I dipped my feet into the water, testing its temperature and pleased with the result.

"Come on Conrad, water's perfect! Catch me if you can!" I hollered in a loud, carefree voice. Clumsily, I stripped down to my bra and panties, carefully placing Taylor's red, crocheted, Calvin Klein mini-dress well away from the waves. Even in my drunken state, I had the lucidity to fear her wrath, lest I ruin one of her dresses.

I smugly took in Conrad's face - dangerously dark, conflicted and lustful.

In unabashed fashion, I reached behind me, unhooked my bra and flung it off. Pulling the elastic straps taut between my fingers like a sling shot, I released and heard it hit my target with a satisfying thwack.

"Belly!"

"Hey Slowpoke, I'll race you to the first buoy!"

I hurriedly waded waist-high into the water then dove in. I was a good swimmer and I had a head start - I would beat Conrad this time, finally. Still submerged, I reached out in front of me and pulled the water away, determinedly pushing forward. In retrospect, had I been sober I would have remembered that I was approaching a spot known for its undertow. Drunk, all I could do was stupidly process I was drowning as I felt my body get yanked down to the ocean floor.

Cold overwhelmed my body and my lungs. Then I saw darkness.

I awoke to Conrad screaming. I tried to gather the strength to respond to him. That second though, he lowered his head to my body and pinched my nose. With his other hand, he tilted my jaw back and opened my mouth, enveloping it with his own.

I realized he thought I was dying. I felt my chest expand as he blew air into it. I opened my eyes and saw his thick, dark lashes wet with either tears or water. Suddenly, I was overcome with the need to gag and started to cough up water. Dimly, I heard Conrad say, "Thank God," before getting off me and rolling me to my side. When I was finished hacking up water, I looked up at him with reverence – my hero.

"Thank you for saving my life. And to think just a week ago, you wouldn't have noticed if I fell off the face of the Earth."

"Bells, I-"

I didn't let him finish. Alcohol and the near-death experience emboldened me. Instead, my arm shot out and pulled his head down to mine. Conrad tasted like saltwater and tequila. I could feel his resolve quickly breaking as the muscles in his mouth relaxed and widened. His tongue invaded my mouth with delicious aggression, and electricity shot down my spine and ignited warmth between my legs. I felt him reach down and touch me.

My hands travelled up and down his broad back, gripping him with an urgency stemmed from years of playing out this scene in my head. I ventured to open my eyes and felt Conrad lift his lips. His blue eyes reflected a storm of quiet intensity. I felt his fingers reach up and caress my sides and breasts before travelling down my arms and lacing his hands with my own.

"I want to be with you. Will you be with me, Conrad?" I asked.

Wordlessly, Conrad kissed my forehead, and then trailed slow, purposeful kisses down my face, then my neck, and to my heaving chest. I closed my eyes and relished the feel of his lips lapping, tugging and suckling. His fingers were pumping in and out of me and I could feel my insides tighten, the pleasure building to something that left me with blinding incoherence. I gave a gasp and held him close to me, savouring each successive wave. Then he took me – tenderly at first, then with fierce passion.

We lay there for what seemed like hours.

Conrad turned to me then, and as he stared at me with sober eyes, I felt in my gut he was going to say what I had always wanted him to say. My heart pumped furiously in my chest in anticipation.

"Belly," he started.

I remained silent, opting to take in the moment – the bright blue full moon, the sound of the waves in the background, the smell of the salt water spray. I wanted to remember every nuance of this moment.

"Belly, this was a mistake." I felt a painful stab to my heart, as if it was collapsing into itself. This wasn't what I wanted to hear.

"Ex-excuse me, what did you say?" I stammered, shell-shocked.

"Belly, I have a girlfriend, we shouldn't have done this – I shouldn't have done this," Conrad continued. I hated the way he tried to shoulder the blame to himself. I couldn't bear to let him continue.

I gave a bitter laugh.

"I went in here fully prepared to be a mature, adult woman whom no longer gave a shit about you. I don't know how you did it Conrad, but you did. You did it again. You got me."

I closed my eyes then, willing myself to wake up if I was dreaming. I counted to ten and opened my eyes. Nope – same beach, same moon, same Conrad with his guilt-stricken, solemn blue eyes.

"Leave, Fisher." I was no longer on a first name basis with him. I steeled my heart. "Just leave and go to bed. God forbid you harm anyone else's heart in the wake of your drunken state."

With as much dignity as possible, I got up, naked, and put my clothes back on. I ignored Conrad's pleas and waited until I heard his retreating footsteps before venturing to turn around.

When I saw his figure disappear into the beach house, I fell to the ground and let myself cry.

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**[END FLASHBACK]**

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Then, I told Taylor everything else that had transpired: the catfight with Maria, Jeremy and Conrad battling it out in Cousins Square, Steven and Conrad's confrontation, the necklace, the moment in Olga's dance studio and my heart to heart with Maria.

"That was intense," Taylor exclaimed, dramatically flopping into the bed as I finished my story. Silently, I lay down with her.

I stared at her expectantly, wide-eyed and hopeful.

"What do you think, Taylor?" Tell me what to do, I prayed silently.

Taylor pursed her lips and her brows furrowed, deep in thought. Though her outward exterior was solemn and reflective, I knew Taylor well enough to know she secretly reveled in moments like these; moments when I surrendered my romantic decision making to her better judgment.

She took a long breath, "Belly –"

"Yes?" I encouraged.

"Has anyone ever told you that your love life could be a movie?" My mouth fell open, slack jawed in disbelief. Then I came to my senses and gave Taylor the dirtiest look I could muster.

"No seriously – they could call it 'The Summer I Turned Pretty,' – let's face it Belly, problems started to snowball that summer you went to Cousins with boobs and a body that caught up with your gangly legs. Yikes, you went through some seriously awkward years before that. It's really a wonder you and I stayed friends despite my overwhelming popularity and early maturation."

"TAAAAAAAAAAYLOR!" I shrieked.

She laughed, "Ok, ok – Serious Miss Jewel from now on, promise," her eyes turned somber as she made a motion over her heart, "I assume you want to know whether you should give our melancholy, brooding leading man another chance?"

"Yes," I said, relaxing.

Swiftly, she reached for my neck and before I could stop her, pulled out the necklace I had hidden from view. Conrad had left it in the car cup holder after our fight and I had taken it back. Taylor rubbed it between her fingers, choosing her words carefully.

"I think there's a reason you took this necklace back. And there's a reason you've been keeping it with you, though you think no one will notice. And I think that regardless of what I will tell you, in your heart of hearts, you have made up your mind. So I'm sorry Conklin, I can't tell you what to do. This decision is one you have to make on your own, and one for which you will live with the consequences."

Damn, I thought.

Taylor gave me a stern look, "You need to talk to Conrad. Not drunk, not in some romantic ballroom with a nostalgic love song, and not with Jeremiah there to referee. You and him, in neutral territory, having a talk."

I gulped. "Ok."

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><p><em><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES: <strong>Are you excited? I'm excited! I can feel this story wrapping up in a couple of chapters, hopefully soon, now that I have some free time on my hands._

_This is very important – please give me feedback so I can make sure I finish this the right way, and if not criticism, let me know what your favourite parts/lines are! I love that!_

_Cheers! -Serafina Sky_


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